Dan Kang

Mother's Day Without Mother

Sun, 12 May 2013 14:51:00 -0700

Childhood

“She’s too tired to talk right now.”

This was the reason week after week why I couldn’t talk to my mom on the phone. I was living with my uncle’s family in the States, and my mom was somewhere in Korea dying from breast cancer. By the time the excuses started flowing, she was already dead and I was oblivious.

A couple months later, we’re all sitting cross-legged in the middle of my grandpa’s senior home apartment in La Mirada, and I’m bawling my eyes out. My dad had just announced the news that my mother had passed away, which hit me like a ton of bricks, and noticeably missed most others as I was one of few shedding tears. Everyone else had known for a while now.

Teenage years

Every day is some variation of waking up to my grandma yelling at me that I’m late for school, eating my grandma’s home-cooked Korean meals (and once in a while finding a stray hair resting on top of the fluffy white rice), and listening to her singing praise songs and clapping next to the dinner table after finishing her daily session of copying down Bible verses.

My grandma has been my mother for nearly a decade and is recognized as such not just by me but also by the US government. My legal adoption to my grandparents is complete, and my fun fact — my birth father is my legal brother — is born.

Young adulthood

Grandma dies due to a weak heart and a host of other problems. I wish I could say that she died peacefully, but the last months of her life had been nothing but discomfort and frankly, suffering. I had moved away from home, away from my grandma, to San Francisco only a week prior.

Two days before Mother’s Day

“What are you doing for Mother’s Day?”

I don’t know how to answer her, the cute girl with blue eyeliner raising money for Greenpeace next to Barnes and Noble. I don’t want to let her know that this will be the first year in which there is no one to celebrate, well there is, but she’s six feet under. I hem and haw for a while because I don’t want to drop this heavy emotional bomb on this unsuspecting stranger who probably thinks she’s asking an innocent question that will make for some polite conversation. I tell her the truth. She doesn’t apologize for the next 20 minutes which so many people are prone to do after hearing the news of death. I appreciate that. She shares that her dad also died this past October, he from a brain aneurysm. My Mother’s Day will be her Father’s Day, and I feel for her.

One day before Mother’s Day

My sister, my grandpa, and I drive over to Rose Hill, where my grandma had been buried just 7 months prior. We have some trouble finding her grave, but we eventually find it. We say our greetings to the air, leave some pink roses in the hole in front of her plaque (which apparently cost a bit extra to install), and sit around for bit talking about grandma and admiring other graves with small fences and entire gardens. Grave envy is a real thing.

Mother’s Day 2013

Facebook and Instagram are exploding with cute pictures of people and their moms. It’s weird not having anyone to buy flowers for, not having anyone to kiss on the cheek, not having anyone to wish “Happy Mother’s Day!”

My sister and I look inside the crowded Starbucks, exchanging joking-but-not-really-joking comments that all these people should go home to their mothers so that we can take the table adjacent to the door that has an outlet right next to it. We clearly deserve this table because everyone has mothers at home and we do not. We are owed.

The powers that be hear our cries for justice and a couple minutes later, the table opens up.

An Overdue Update

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 11:19:07 -0700

I should let you know that I haven’t been posting any of my travel posts or uploading any pictures on Facebook because my laptop was stolen on a train ride from hell through Bulgaria. More on this later. The important thing is that I’m still safe and traveling!

Vienna Travel Tips

Thu, 21 Mar 2013 03:43:49 -0700

Transportation

I bought a 48 hour pass. Didn’t have my ticket checked a single time.

Hostels

Hostel Ruthensteiner: For the love of all that is good, don’t stay here. You have to put in the bedsheets, pillowcase, and blanket cover yourself which is the last thing you want to do when you’re exhausted from travelling all day, there’s no space above beds so you have to crouch at an extreme angle when sitting on your bed which leads to immense back pains, there’s no outlet next to your bed, and absolutely no social vibe mainly due to barely any other people staying there. What a terrible hostel. The place has phenomenal reviews on hostelbookers which makes me think that my bad stay was a fluke, but my, what a disappointment.

Nightlife

I mostly relaxed and recuperated from all the going out in Prague, so I ended up only going to this bar called B72 to check out some live bands. I largely wasn’t a fan of the music nor of the idea of standing around watching someone play on stage while having minimal interaction with the people around you which is like having the worst of both worlds of a concert and a bar, so I can’t really recommend this place.

Eats

Johannes, the friend who stayed with me back in San Francisco, lives in Vienna and he knows all the good vegetarian places. There was a self-serve pay-by-weight vegetarian place called yamm that was pretty neat, although it was quite pricey. The highlight for me was this small shop called Reformhaus Buchmuller which had amazing food for fairly cheap.

Vienna First Impressions

Wed, 20 Mar 2013 17:17:41 -0700

Alright, so this post is way overdue because I’m not even in Vienna anymore, but I’ll write down what I remember of my first impressions.

I was drinking overpriced hot chocolate at Starbucks out of a huge glass mug (do we have those in the States? I don’t really go to Starbucks so I don’t know) and two young teenagers came into the store to ask for money. This is the first time I’ve had people ask for me indoors in Europe, so that was pretty interesting. Apparently it’s not uncommon.
Things are much more expensive than in Prague. Damn.
Back in Euroland!

Prague Travel Tips

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 03:35:11 -0700

Transportation

You can walk pretty much everywhere.

Hostels

The Mosaic House (St. Christopher’s): Great bar, great facilities, and there’s live music, too. The chill-out room for this place wasn’t very social, but there were a lot of people hanging around the bar so it was nice. St. Christopher’s (it’s a chain) hostels are always high quality. If you go here, look for a cute bartender with a tattoo of an incomplete tic-tac-toe game on her arm and challenge her to a game. :)
The MadHouse: If you want to party, this is hands-down the hostel to go to. I’ve never been to a hostel more social than this one — from the moment you walk in, you’re greeted with a free beer and a wall that has a picture of tits on fire. Everyone hangs out in the kitchen and plays beer pong until we all go out together to a club or a pub every night. The staff here is the best. In case you couldn’t tell, I thoroughly enjoyed my stay here and would easily recommend it.

Nightlife

Five Stories Club: The bartenders at The Mosaic House poo-pooed this place as having bad music, but I think “bad music” is just top 20s stuff. I personally didn’t go here, but some girls at The MadHouse really liked it.
Roxy: They had a shitty DJ when I was there. Not a fan.
Chapeau Rouge: Good electro music, but I got really tired and left a bit early.

Spending

As mentioned in my First Impressions post, the Czech Republic still uses Czech Crowns (Korunas). For easy conversions in your head, just divide Crowns by 20 to get the US dollar amounts.
Buy groceries, drinks, and longer-lasting food while you’re here! When I arrived in Vienna, I realized how foolish I was for not stocking up on stuff when I was still in Prague because Prague is really cheap. Also, I bought the best apple juice I’ve ever tasted from one of the supermarkets; sadly, I don’t remember the brand of the container. Sorry, I’m a tease.

"Where are you from?"

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 11:24:00 -0700

Let’s be real, saying “Fullerton” is out of the question.

I used to say Orange County, but only a handful of people from Europe who have seen “The OC” knew where that’s located and I felt like a snobby American who expects everyone from all over the world to know where Orange County is located.

And then I switched to saying California, but that only delayed the problem because quite a few people would ask the follow-up question of where exactly in California I’m from. Back to square one.

A possible solution was saying that I’m from Los Angeles, as it’s reasonable to assume that the vast majority of people have heard of LA and know where it’s located. But then some people have actually been to LA and would tell me about all the fun, tourist activities that they’ve done there and I would just nod and smile and feel like a fraud because I’ve never properly explored LA despite living 30 minutes from it. Shame on me.

So now I just tell people that I’m from Disneyland. For people who don’t know where it is, I tell them it’s “around LA” and I get the added bonus of having people associate me with the Happiest Place on Earth. Success!

Prague First Impressions

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 11:03:39 -0700

The Czech Republic still uses Czech Crowns, which was disappointing because the ancient Lonely Planet guide that I read on the train said that the Czech Republic would adopt the Euro by 2010. Lies.
Apparently this is also present in some parts of the States, but I was surprised by how all the cashiers in the supermarkets were sitting down as they rang people up. Also a disproportionate number of them were overweight, middle-aged women as opposed to the young students that you often see in the States.
This is pertinent to travelers and Europeans in general: everyone smokes cigarettes. It’s really weird.

Berlin Travel Tips

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 10:03:55 -0700

Clothing

If you go in the winter, dress warm and have shoes without a million holes so that your feet won’t go numb from the snow. Yup, speaking from experience.

Transportation

Unlike London’s Tube, Berlin’s public transit is pretty much based on an honor system. If you do decide to try your hand at fare evasion on the U-Bahn or S-Bahn, be warned that both guys that I met on my train from Berlin to Prague were caught and forced to pay a 40 euro fine during their stay in Berlin. I personally didn’t have my tickets checked at any time, but apparently it’s becoming more and more common.

Hostels

PLUS Berlin: Nothing but scorching hot water came out of the sink in my room so washing up was quite the dangerous adventure. The hostel wasn’t set up to have a very social atmosphere where travelers can mingle, so I wasn’t a huge fan.
Circus Hostel: Good hostel, and the free pasta that they give out on some nights was pretty great. That said, you need to scan your card a minimum of three times in order to get from the lobby to your room (once to activate the elevator, once to get into your hallway, and once more to get into your room) which got really old very quickly.
Baxpax Downtown: I would recommend this hostel the most, because they have an actual bar and chill out area in the hostel which is most conducive to creating a social environment. I had the most fun here.

Nightlife

Go to Berghain, even though most likely you’ll be standing in line for an unreasonable time in absolute silence while losing any feeling in your hands and toes and end up being dismissed by the bouncer when you get to the front of the line.

Traveling, the Art of Hit or Miss and the Occasional Bullseye

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 09:27:53 -0700

Walking around indecisively with an unlikely conglomerate of new friends from Italy, Netherlands, Sweden, and Japan and trying doner kebab (vegetarian version, naturally) for the first time.

Watching Peter painfully struggle to translate “bark” into English for a full minute and finding out that the Swedish word for it is also “bark”.

Discussing “The Matrix”, the blue pill and the red pill, the pervasiveness of media and its effect on our thoughts and our perception of beauty and finding ourselves in complete agreement despite coming from completely different backgrounds.

Bobbing my head to Erid serenading the room with a classical guitar, an effortless voice, and popular American songs.

Sharing bottles of white wine and thoughts on the attractiveness of stability (for Molly) and passion (for me) and listening to her nail American accents perfectly thanks to her experience with musical theater.

Meeting people is hands-down the best part of traveling.

Berlin First Impressions

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 10:43:10 -0700

It’s cold. Like even-my-overpriced-smartwool-socks-are-failing-me cold. I haven’t seen snow since I ate bucketfuls of it for a full day while having a board strapped to my feet two months ago, so this is definitely conjuring up some good memories.
Berlin parties hard. When I left Club Soda this morning at 5am, there were still a ton of people there. Pretty nuts.
The green man that shows up for pedestrian traffic lights is unique here, and it’s pretty much a brand because you can buy all sorts of merchandise bearing a green man with only limbs and no body.

Water and Piss, In That Order

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 03:45:28 -0800

There are many customs I love about European countries in contrast to the States, a few being the metric system, great public transit, tipping being what it should be, a sensible drinking age, and paying exactly the price listed on items instead of having to calculate sales tax.

There are also some things I dislike like ending up with 20 pounds of coins in my pocket (this is only a pun in the UK) and design inconsistencies having to do with light switches where sometimes you have to press on the lower end of a switch to turn something on and sometimes you have to press up top although this probably exists in the States too and I just haven’t encountered it.

But there are two pet peeves which completely take the cake and are offensive to me as a human being:

1. Many restaurants will refuse to serve you tap water. In the Netherlands, I ate at a sushi restaurant that required customers to purchase at least one beverage. Okay, not a fan but not entirely unreasonable. The most inexpensive form of water I could get was a small bottle costing 2.50 EUR ($3.25). After finishing the bottle, I asked the waiter if I could get tap water since I met their beverage purchase requirement, to which he replied, “Sorry, we don’t serve tap water.” Bathroom sink it is.

2. In many places, you have to pay to use the restroom. Pissing your money away is no fun.

Brussels Travel Tips

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 03:14:23 -0800

Eat waffles.
Drink beer.
Leave.

Brussels First Impressions

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 14:18:59 -0800

Yesterday, I decided to go to Brussels before heading over to Berlin so I booked a Megabus for 6.50 euros and got here today. Being able to make spontaneous decisions like this is the reason why I love flexible, unplanned traveling.

This is the first time I’m in a city where English is not universally spoken. English isn’t an official language in the Netherlands, but everyone I spoke to had some ability to speak English, albeit pretty badly at times. Not being able to read signs or communicate with pedestrians or employees is a pain the ass, but playing pictionary with strangers is pretty fun.
Brussels seems quite dull. Maybe I’m looking in the wrong places, but I don’t think so. I asked 6 different people what there is to do for fun, and the best suggestion I got was to go drink beer and wander around. To be fair, that doesn’t sound bad at all.
In the same way that Heineken signs are plastered all over Amsterdam, Brussels has Stella Artois signs everywhere. I mind a little less because I actually really like Stella Artois. [Insert trite praise of Belgian beers.]
Waffles. Everywhere.
I had my first exposure to multi-turn locks at my host’s place, where the dead bolt only moves a little bit every time you turn the lock, which enables you to lock the door 3 times. I’m not sure why this is more secure or even useful.

Amsterdam Travel Tips

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 11:08:01 -0800

Activities

The Red Light District is fascinating because there’s nowhere else where sexy ladies try to seduce you from behind a window. Some of the guys at my hostel tried the services and told me they had a great time. Except one guy went to a happy-ending massage parlor and his masseuse tried to finish him by fingering his butt but he wasn’t into that at all and screamed. I think it’s safe to say that he didn’t have a good time.
If you want to find excellent space cake, there’s a place called Paradox near Anne Frank’s house. I wouldn’t recommend mixing space cake and visiting the Anne Frank museum though because that would be a total downer.

Transportation

I walked everywhere and took the tram when necessary to get to and from my couchsurfing host’s home. It would have been fun to rent a bike and bike around like a local, but walking suited me fine.
Make sure you’re aware of your surroundings when you’re walking around. Not because there are thieves everywhere and you’ll have all your belongings stolen, but because you might accidentally get run over by a bike. It almost happened to me multiple times.

Hostels

I really enjoyed staying at The Flying Pig downtown. They have a smoking room where people hang out and smoke cigarettes and weed, but if you stay in there for too long your clothes will absorb all the smells and be absolutely foul. The only downside to the hostel was the wifi was spotty, but the social atmosphere more than makes up for it.

Nightlife

You will most definitely be accosted by Moroccan guys trying to sell you hard drugs. Unless you’re actually interested, don’t stop walking. They’ll be really aggressive and persistent, but if you keep on telling them that you prefer Pepsi over coke, they’ll eventually lose interest.

Amsterdam First Impressions

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 08:01:43 -0800

This will be a recurring post for every city that I visit in addition to the travel tips. I should probably make it clear that since these are all first impressions, they’re not necessarily accurate and may just be confirmation biases of horrible stereotypes.

The Dutch have a reputation for being very direct, and so far, I’ve found this to be the case. Within minutes of meeting me, my couchsurfing host asked me if I was gay since I’m staying at a gay household. I honestly really, really, really, really (yes, that’s four really’s) like these kinds of direct questions and interactions a lot better than how we normally conduct our affairs by beating around the bush.
A lot of families in the area leave their curtains open at night, which allows passersby to take a glimpse inside. It was really neat to just walk down the street and see a snapshot of the everyday lives of people living in Amsterdam as they watch TV, eat dinner, or just sit around reading books.
Bikes everywhere. Everyone rides bikes. There are special bike lanes and special bike traffic lights and bikes, bikes, bikes. And they all have these sweet little bells that jingle when you’re accidentally standing in the bike lane and the person behind you wants you to GTFO but they’ll ring their sweet little bells instead of yelling at you. It’s nice.
I had fries and mayonnaise at dinner last night, and it was weird but pleasant but weird. If you’ve watched Pulp Fiction, you know what I’m talking about.

London Travel Tips

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 07:45:00 -0800

It’s been three days since I was in London and I’ve been meaning to do this post for a while, but there’s this post about the Speakers’ Corner that I also want to do and it’s been slowing me down so I’m going to skip it for now and add that later. Okay.

I think it’ll be useful for me to jot some travel tips for every place that I go to, so those posts will be tagged #traveltips so people can benefit when they go traveling.

General

This is a general tip about travelling: use cash for everything. Take out a sizable amount when you arrive and avoid using your debit card because it will incur foreign transaction fees. If you use Bank of America like me, there is a list of banks in the Global ATM alliance that will allow you to avoid the $5 + 1% charge for withdrawing from an ATM. In the UK, the bank to withdraw from is Barclays.

Activities

With all the free things there are to do in London, I would not recommend getting a London Day Pass. In some cities, getting a day pass is smart because you can save a lot on attractions with admissions fees, but in London there are so many free things to do and so many free things to see that I don’t think getting a day pass is at all worth it.

Transportation

Get an Oyster card for transportation, because you will be the taking the Tube (London’s metro system) everywhere. And if you get an Oyster card, fares on the bus will be cheaper than if you use a paper ticket. I spent a while looking up getting an Oyster card vs. a travel day card which allows travel for 24 hours, and it turns out that the Oyster card will max out on the travel day card limit so with an Oyster card you’ll always be spending less or the same as you would if you got a day card every day.

Lodging

I would highly, highly recommend St. Christopher’s Inn at The Village. The atmosphere there is excellent, the people are great, the staff is chill, and the rooms are clean. It was a huge difference form the first hostel I stayed at, The Queen Elizabeth, which had cramped rooms and no personal storage areas. The Village also had a chill-out room for people to just go hang out in, and I met a lot of people that way.

Sounds Inside a Hostel Room at 5am

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 21:27:00 -0800

I woke up and I can’t fall asleep and I’m not sure whether I’ve suddenly become accustomed to 5 hours of sleep (hallelujah, praise the Lord!) or whether it’s jet lag even though I swear jet lag never affects me and I’m usually always able to sleep like a baby.

Since I can’t sleep, I’ll write. I’m in a 6 bunk bed room, which means that there are at most 5 other people here with me. I’ve only seen 3 personally, so that means that the bunk above me and the bottom bunk of the other 3-story bunk structure could possibly be empty but there’s no way to check unless I climb down the ladder, slowly, making sure not to make my bed creak too much and then what would I do anyway, walk over and feel around for people? Why would I even do that?

The most consistent sound in the room is the regular breathing of a certain backlit, half-opened laptop. The fans whir, the fans stop, and it’s like it can’t make up its mind as to whether it is too hot or not.

In second place is some guy, exhaling and inhaling, making enough noise that it’s audible but not enough that I would call it snoring. There was someone, I think the guy below me, who would sometimes give a sudden start in snoring and then stop. My dad does this sometimes, where he sounds like he’s choking to death in his own sleep but it’s just his weird way of snoring and I used to worry about him but now I barely think about him at all. That last part is kind of sad, but alas, that’s what happens when you separated from the age of 5 and the only communication is a phone call now and then again.

Now there are some people talking outside. It bothers the guy in the bed with the laptop, and he makes a pained noise as he stirs in bed. I wonder what people are doing outside at 5am. Maybe they’ve been drinking all this time and they had a jolly good time and now they’re sauntering back home to catch some much-needed shuteye.

Mr. Inconsistent Snore is snoring again. Oh, and he stopped again. By far the loudest noise is my fingers click-clacking on the black keys of my MacBook. I think I’ll stop.

London First Impressions

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 13:56:00 -0800

I’m here. I’ve arrived. I’m still alive.

I spent half my time in London today looking for my hostel (no map, no cellphone service, no sense of direction, hooray!) and am resting on my bunk bed, which is a nice change from the tiny seat I was squirming in during my flight for 10 hours, ready to share some observations.

Every conversation that takes place around me is the most interesting thing because it’s in a British accent. How do American accents sound to British folks? How do accents even develop? At what point did the colonials stray so far from their mother tongue that the way they spoke had a noticeable difference?
In the three times that I rode London’s metro service today, I was surprised to see that hardly anyone played with their phones. This is a stark difference from using public transit in San Francisco where everyone is twiddling away on their small companions. So what do people here do instead of tweeting or checking Facebook? Maybe you think they all strike up conversations and talk to each other like old pals. I wish. Most people just sit there and stare ahead blankly. Some people read books.
Jaywalking is hard because I keep looking on the wrong side of the street in order to see incoming cars. And every car that I walk by seems to be an autonomous vehicle at first sight since the driver’s seat is on the right side here. Why are the British doing it wrong? (Obviously the right way is always The American Way.) I swear I’m going to get hit by a car.
Back at home, my grandpa acts as my personal bank by changing all my coins to dollar bills. It’s because I hate coins with a passion. They’re heavy and hard to carry around. I’ve only been in the U.K. for a couple hours, but I’ve already accumulated over $10 worth of coins because people keep giving me goddamn pound (~$1.5) coins which are thick and heavy and soul-crushing. Imagine if everyone gave you dollar coins instead of dollar bills. I am in coin hell.
For the first time, I feel like I’m completely and utterly alone. It’s a strange sensation because there’s no one watching your back to make sure that you don’t get robbed blind and there’s no one to really help if a car happens to hit you and break both your legs while you’re jaywalking. When I lived alone in San Francisco, I knew people in my building and some Facebookers so I didn’t really feel alone, but here I feel like I’m the only one I can depend on. Which is actually true, and I’m sure I’ll get used to this feeling.
I didn’t know bunk beds could be so hard to get into. My bed for the night is right in the middle of two other bunk beds, so I have to climb up the ladder halfway and slide in. Another traveler staying at this hostel told me about how a bunk bed at another hostel collapsed under the weight of some fat guy and fell on top of some poor girl. I’m crossing my fingers that this doesn’t happen to me.

Ramblings Aboard a Moving Prison

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 20:01:00 -0800

Confined on a bus, this is where I take on the daunting task of writing with pen and paper. My handwriting is already illegible and the fact that the bus shakes so much is not helping matters.

I suppose I should explain my predicament — apparently we have opted for an alternate route in order to avoid mountainous paths covered with snow. While our destination is directly to our south, this new route has taken us far east.

I’ve done all the reading that I can do for one day. I finally finished with Pride and Prejudice; overall, I enjoyed it except Darcy’s dramatic change in disposition midway through the book (oops, spoiler alert) seemed quite unbelievable to me. The girl sitting next to me insists otherwise, and I do suppose that I should take Elizabeth’s prejudices into account as well in the narrator’s description of Darcy. Anyway, I planned on starting David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest, but cowered away when my Kindle informed me that it would take me 30 hours to finish the 1000+ page book. I’m trying to learn to read faster by reading more, but at the present moment I am still quite slow of a reader. Okay, since Infinite Jest is out of the running for the time being, I’ll tackel Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five. Apparently, it should take me around 3 hours. I can stomach that. But that’ll be later, because I can’t continue reading right now.

It’s dark, so I can’t really enjoy the view outside besides the flashes of light of the cars passing by. Earlier, the girl next to me, actually let’s introduce her, her name is Rosa, told me that the crates next to rows of trees actually contain bees. TIL. Fun fact: Rosa bakes cookies with candy-top mushrooms that she finds herself. pretty neat. It reminded me of a story I heard of a girl at school cooking wild mushrooms that she happened to find and — surprise, surprise — getting quite sick.

I typically enjoy these bus rides, but the fact that we’re hours behind schedule is creating the feeling that I’m being kept here against my will. I can’t stop thinking about the incarceration of David Chong, a UCSD senior who was confined in a 5’x5’x10’ holding cell for 5 days without food or water because DEA agents forgot about him. Pretty frightening stuff.

Anyway, I’m quite hungry but I don’t want to reach over and take the Chipotle leftovers from earlier out of the overhead compartment just yet. The couple in front of me were feeding each other fruits earlier and it was quite adorable despite the fact that I wanted to stick my head in the gap between their seats and take a bite out of whatever fruit slice happened to be on the fork at the time. Speaking of fruit slices, Rosa gave me half of an orange that she had brought with her. It was really sweet. If I left it ambiguous whether it refers to the act of sharing or the orange itself, would people catch it? Would anyone even notice? Or maybe those who would notice would think that I couldn’t possibly have intentionally created the ambiguity. Do writers typically worry about whether anyone’s going to get their clever lines? If the writer actually didn’t intend it, should they be given credit for the cleverness? Maybe even if they weren’t consciously being clever, we could attribute to their subconscious so there’s some merit in that. Does authorial intent even matter?

I feel like writing on this bus with my chicken scratch scribbles is undoing the careful, meticulous handwriting practice I’ve done for the past two weeks or so. But let’s be real, if I wrote all of this neatly, the bus would arrive before I could even get through half of what I’ve already written. And that’s a pretty damn long time from now.

I’m not sure whether the confinement inside the bus or my hunger is making me grouchier. My arm’s getting tired and Google Maps tells me that we’re 50 minutes away from LA. I suppose I’ll eat my burrito bowl now.

Until Next Time, SF

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 21:26:00 -0800

Today’s my last day in SF before I take a bus (yes, again) back to LA, spend two weeks at home, then fly to London for a backpacking trip across Europe.

San Francisco has been a wonderful place to live in since I moved here back in October, and I can’t wait to eventually come back and beat all the other startups in achieving world domination. This is assuming that this summer with HackNY doesn’t make me fall hopelessly in love with NYC. We’ll see.

Alright, let’s talk about SF.

My Two Favorite Things

1. There are so many things to do!!!1111!ONE

Back in Fullerton, my hometown, there is the constant question of “so what do you want to do?” And this is due less to a lack of decision-making skills than it is to the lack of choices. If there were a tenth of the amount of things to do in Fullerton as there are in SF, I’d be ecstatic.

San Francisco is filled with tourist hotspots, museums, parks, and many other attractions, and on top of that there are events happening all the time. I found out about Funcheap a long month into living here, and it’s been an invaluable resource since for finding exciting things to do around the city. If this is your first time hearing about Funcheap, you’re welcome.

I actually really enjoy doing touristy activities because they’re usually lots of fun. After all, there are good reasons why these places attract tourists. And sometimes, I discover something new despite having been to a particular place a million times: I was walking around Pier 39 and found this “7-D” attraction where you sit down and shoot zombies on a big screen while your chair vibrates and blows air into your face to simulate wind, and it was a lot of fun because I kicked ass. Or maybe my partner just sucked and made me look good in comparison. Let’s just assume it’s the former.

2. There are a lot of weird people here. Weird is good. Weird is fun.

There’s no short of interesting characters here. From the naked guy walking around with his wang hanging out dressed as Jesus on Halloween (yes, of course this was in the Castro) to the guy who’s been holding a neon-green “Jesus Loves You” sign nearly every day for the past 12 years, the people here have such diverse backgrounds and lifestyles. I still remember meeting this girl when I first moved here in front of In-N-Out who told me that she likes to look into people’s windows at night with a telescope. The fun (and kind of scary) thing is that quirky people like this are not at all hard to find.

My Two Least Favorite Things

1. It’s cold.

I’m a wimp when it comes to cold temperatures. (Yay for going to Europe in February!) Sometimes I’ll look outside my window, see that it’s sunny, and step outside in a t-shirt. Then I’ll sprint back up the stairs and grab my thickest jacket because it’s below 70 degrees. Discount this “bad thing” if you live anywhere other than Southern California. I apologize in advance for my invalid complaint.

2. The hills are rough. In the beginning.

I live on top of a large hill, and I thought I was going to faint the first couple times I walked home after a day out. After a couple months of climbing Mount Powell-Everest, my legs have adjusted and I end up only half about to faint. Also, this really isn’t a bad thing as it’s pretty good exercise. That said, I would hate to drive here.

There’s a lot more I can write about San Francisco, but I actually need to go pack or else I’ll miss my bus tomorrow and end up staying here involuntarily in the streets. I’m sure I’d experience San Francisco in a very different light. Speaking of which, I actually want to try living in the streets for a week or so, but that’s for another time. Toodles.